


Feral

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: During the lull, Legolas hunts a hunter.





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for TAFKAB’s “12. Legolas as a werewolf / Either Gimli or Aragorn being pursued would be awesome? / or him thinking of them in werewolfy terms” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/161379570810/au-prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s a quick runner, this mortal that Legolas chases after— _Aragorn_ , if Legolas has heard correctly. No quicker than an elf, of course, and Legolas is faster than most. He scales the underbrush easily, matching Aragorn pace for pace, weaving seamlessly between the towering trees and silently impressed at how rarely Aragorn stumbles. Most Men wouldn’t be able to give Legolas any chase at all. This one’s as impressive as he is handsome, and the scent he leaves behind is intoxicating. He’d be an excellent mate, Legolas is sure of it.

Legolas gets his chance when Aragorn finally falters, breaking into a clearing and grinding to a halt, where he bends as though to catch his breath. Legolas slows accordingly, though he keeps his movement forwards; he’s hardly about to give up his catch now. Just as he steps through the trees, Aragorn straightens again, erect in a heartbeat, a wooden bow held taut in his hands. 

The arrow points straight at Legolas’ heart. But the sight of Legolas seems to give Aragorn pause, and his split-second hesitation is the end of it—Legolas dodges around the weapon and barrels right into Aragorn’s strong chest, knocking him straight to the ground. Aragorn grunts and falls, thudding heavily against the forest floor. Legolas splays atop him, carefully pinning down both arms and legs, and can’t help a small grin of victory.

Aragorn merely blinks up at him, then eventually mutters, “Oh.”

“Oh,” Legolas repeats. He lifts one blond brow in amusement and eyes his catch up close. In the early morning light, it’s easier to see the chiseled contours of Aragorn’s attractive face. Legolas has always seen well in the dark, but now he can catch each individual hair on Aragorn’s chin, and he privately thinks that Aragorn, somehow, is even better looking than he’d thought. 

Aragorn glances down Legolas’ body, straying to Legolas’ spread thighs, thinly clad in translucent tights. They’re open wide across Aragorn’s lap, and Legolas can feel Aragorn’s body stirring at the view. Finally, Aragorn licks his lips and manages: “I thought wargs were on my tail. Please, forgive me. If I’d known it was such a beautiful elf pursuing me instead, I would not have run.”

Legolas takes care not to preen under the compliment. Instead, he enjoys the final moment of Aragorn’s body heat and the appealing prospect of Aragorn beneath him.

Then he wrenches off, maneuver slickly to the side and snatching up Aragorn’s bow. The pack of Aragorn’s arrows has fallen off his shoulder and rolled to the side in the commotion, but Legolas plucks one up and lets it fly within a single breath. Even as the first warg leaps over the bushes, the arrow’s already killed it. With a quickly-ended cry, the warg’s large husk slams into the ground. Aragorn gapes, and Legolas rises gracefully to his feet. He looks down at Aragorn to purr, “They are. Hence why I was trying so hard to catch you, so that I might protect you. ...Although, I myself was a wolf not long ago.”

In the process of getting up, Aragorn frowns. He brushes himself off, then collects his arrows, but he doesn’t take back his bow. He eyes Legolas warily for a moment, then slowly says, “I had not thought Sauron’s wretched curse could taint the purity of elves.”

Legolas finds his grin growing. Aragorn shows no fear—an alluring trait in itself—nor any inclination to fight Legolas, though he stands tall as Legolas paces in a languid circle around him, eyeing every delicious angle. As Legolas resists the urge to run his long fingers through the messy tangles of Aragorn’s hair, he murmurs, “It is not exactly a _curse_ , not anymore. I do not lose my mind. Only my fragility. But you look like the sort of man who could handle that...” When he reaches the front again, his gaze falls to Aragorn’s lips. He steps forward, and Aragorn, if anything, leans slightly forward.

Legolas brushes them together for a kiss, only quick and chaste, because Aragorn is the sort of man Legolas thinks he could _ravish_ , and this is no place to lose himself. At least, not when the moon is down, and his true power lies hidden. Against Aragorn’s mouth, he purrs, “You should come with me to my pack.”

Aragorn looks ready to leap, ready to push Legolas to the floor and begin right here, but another warg’s cry breaks them apart. Legolas lets loose another arrow, and Aragorn draws the sword from his hip, looking every bit the competent partner Legolas has long searched for. 

Aragorn’s the one to suggest, “Perhaps we should deal with your rival pack first.” And Legolas chuckles and nods, ready to feed two separate hungers.


End file.
